Page 2 of Merciless Sinner

The chair creaks as I lean against it and allow my eyes to drift to the crystal-blue sea of the French Riviera in the distance. I get lost in the sunlight sparkling against the sea’s surface, but my thoughts rumble around my mind like tumbleweed in a tornado.

My patience is wearing thin with every passing second. I keep thinkingwhat if I don’t see her?

Or if I’m wrong?

What if we’re all wrong and the woman in the pictures isn’t Olivia, or the identity tests my guards ran areallwrong?

Everything proved this woman to be her, but I’m at that place in this haggard journey where my faith is failing and fading.

I’ve spent every waking moment over the last few years searching everywhere I could for her. It’s hard to believe that this isn’t one of the many occasions where I come up with nothing but disappointment and grief in my soul.

Every time that happens to me, I ask myself the same question—do I keep looking?

Do I let her go from my heart and accept that I might never find her?

Do I say goodbye and move on?

As this instance is by far the most promising, I already know my answer to all those questions.

Even if I had no evidence, I’d still be here. Still halfway across the world.

Still looking for her.

I look around at the same time the door to the staff entrance swings opens and out rushes a young blonde woman. On seeing her, I straighten with anticipation, and my heart stills the way it does whenever I come across any woman who looks like her.

This woman has the same white-blonde hair color as Olivia. It’s piled on top of her head in a messy bun. She also has the same slim build and petite, willowy frame, but as her head is bowed while she fixes her apron, I can’t see her face.

When she walks around the counter to join the other baristas and lifts her head, I find her face and my heart stumbles a beat, then comes to a complete stop as I realize it’s her.

It’s actually her.

My God.

The air in my lungs dries up the longer I stare at her, and every nerve and cell in my body awakens with this knowledge that I’ve actually found her.

I’m looking right at her. The girl I thought was lost to me forever.

The thought makes my spirit leap like an engine restarting with new life, and my heart starts racing as if it only started beating again for her.

No other woman has ever produced this sort of reaction in me.

I have always felt likethisabout her.

Dark souls like me aren’t supposed to associate with hallowed beings like her, even when they come from the same world.

You should know to look and never touch, but like everything else, I broke the rules.For her.

The euphoria of knowing that my Olivia is alive and still with me in the world of the living makes me want to run over to her and take her into my arms, so I hold her in my heart forever.

But I know I can't do that.

The sensible thing is to keep watching and wait for the right time to approach her. So, I do just that and keep watching.

Those bright blue eyes of hers scan the room as she looks at the people around us. She must see me, but her gaze bounces right off me.

That’s okay. Although I’m a big guy and hard to miss because of my muscles and tattoos, I’m at the back, and there must be at least fifty people in here.

Olivia grabs a little notebook, and while I watch her scribbling down her notes, memories of us flow into my mind like a river breaking through a dam.

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